The moon rose; a cold light began to filter through the woods.
“Here,” Sorrow said suddenly, halting by a round pond under a rock wall latticed with juniper. It was a place that Gogu and I had visited often, a good spot for gathering water-cress. Beyond that, I had never thought it particularly special.
“This is the crossing. Be quick! My strength is waning. Will you bring her, Jena?” He sank to the ground, the cup still balanced in his hand, not a single drop allowed to trickle down its curiously patterned exterior.
“I’ll do my best,” I said, wondering how Tati could possibly manage such a journey in the cold. Costi and I were both looking at Sorrow, who was plainly at the last point of weariness.
It seemed to me that before we had any chance of reaching home, he would be sprawled on the ground in an exhausted stupor—the cup would be spilled, the quest lost. Besides, he must stay alert or the hunters would surely find him.
“I’ll stay here,” Paula said, squatting down beside him. “Be 388
as quick as you can, please. It’s not the warmest of nights.” She was shivering; I knew it was not only from cold.
“We’ll run,” I said, taking Costi’s hand. And we did. “I must be mad,” I gasped.
“It’ll be all right, Jena,” panted Costi. I took heart, for there was no trace of a stammer in his voice.
We ran along the track and down the hill to Piscul Dracului. We sprinted across the courtyard and into the castle. As we passed the kitchen doorway, Iulia stepped out and hastily closed the door behind her, blocking anyone inside from seeing us.
“Hurry up!” she urged. “Tati’s really sick. Is he coming?”
We ran upstairs toward the bedchamber, Costi with lantern in hand. “You’ll be shocked,” I warned him. “Tati’s much weaker than at last Full Moon. She shouldn’t even get out of bed, let alone go into the forest at night.”
Costi nodded, sober-faced, and then we were there. I knocked, and Stela opened the door.
“Oh, Jena, you’re here! I can’t even hear her breathing anymore.” The words ended in a sob.
“Sorrow’s back,” I said, coming to kneel by the bed. “He’s out there with Paula, waiting. Tati? Tati, can you hear me?”
Stela crouched on the other side with tears streaming down her cheeks. “We can’t wake her up,” she said.
“Tati, Sorrow is here,” I said. “And I have Costi with me.
We’re going to wrap you up and take you outside. Sorrow has completed the quest—he’s got all the things Ileana asked for.
389
He just needs you to come out, and you can cross over together, if that’s what you want. Come on, Tati, please.”
She did not stir. Like an enchanted princess in some dark tale, she lay immobile against her pillow. The red glass teardrop glinted on her neck like blood on snow. Just the smallest stir of breath revealed that she had not already slipped away: the tiny, slow rise of her chest under the fine linen of her night robe. Doubt seized me. If I insisted on taking her out in the cold, it would more likely be the death of her than a happy ending. How could I live with that? But if I left her here, we would surely lose her anyway.
“Fetch her warmest cloak,” I told the weeping Stela. “We’re going to do this. Costi, help me lift her. . . . That’s it. . . .”
We wrapped her up as well as we could. “Stela, it’s best if you stay here until Costi and I get back. I’m sorry. Say goodbye now. Iulia will come upstairs soon. Please don’t cry. Maybe it’s not forever. Maybe nothing’s forever.”
It was cruel to give her so little time. Tati lay in her own world, cold as ice within her night robe and shawl and cloak. I doubted she could hear her little sister’s farewell. Costi carried her downstairs and past the kitchen door. Iulia heard us; she came out and touched a hand to Tati’s brow.
“I can’t believe this,” she whispered. “It’s like a bad dream.
Petru and Florica are just sitting in there, staring into space.”
I made a decision. “We should tell them,” I said. “They’ve known Tati since she was little—they should be allowed to say goodbye.”
“I think they’ve worked it out already,” Iulia said.
So we called them out, the two of them with their seamed, 390
strong faces and their work-worn hands. I told them, in as few words as I could, that Tati was going to the Other Kingdom, that she wanted this, and that it was the only thing that could save her life. They didn’t ask a single question. Florica kissed Tati on the brow. Petru touched her on the cheek, muttering something that might have been a prayer or a charm.
“What’s going to happen, Jena?” asked Iulia, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks. “Do you really think she’ll be all right?”
“We must believe that,” I told her. “Now say goodbye.
Maybe she can hear you. Then you’d best go up to Stela. I’ll be home again soon.”
It was no longer possible to run. Costi carried Tati in his arms and I held the lantern.
“She’s as light as a child,” Costi murmured. “What’s wrong with her, Jena?”
“I think she’s dying for love,” I said. “If I’m right, and broken hearts can mend, we may still have time to save her. Hurry, if you can.” I pictured Sorrow with his injured leg, trying somehow to carry both Tati and the brimming cup of water away to the Other Kingdom. “You have to have faith,” I muttered. “Faith in true love.”
